Royal Oak
by yellowhorde
Summary: 5XM,3x4implied Set in the age of pirates, Wufei's wife Meilan is kidnapped by Treize Khushrenada, captain of the infamous Black Rose. With the help of his captain, Heero Yuy and his crew Wufei sets out to get her back. References to NCS and attempted


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write.

Pairing: 5xM, 3+4 (implied)

Category: Angst

Rating: R

Warnings: Contains references to non-consensual sex.

Title: Royal Oak

Author: yellowhorde

ROYAL OAK

Duo was enjoying the fresh salt breeze that caressed his sun-warmed face and tugged playfully at his long, dark bangs. (This is the life.) He thought as he finished the last segment of orange. He chewed with relish and swallowed with some regret, knowing that fresh fruit was a rare and precious commodity. Without thinking, he wiped his hands on the black slacks he wore. The rest of their supply was stored carefully under deck to be rationed out over time. Scurvy was an all too real threat on this long journey. They had been out of port for some three months now. And still no sign of their target.

The crow's nest really had the best view all around and why not? It was positioned up atop the main sails to give the lookout on duty the best possible vantage point. Right at this moment, the view consisted of miles and miles of sea to their front bow and the small island where they had restocked their provisions at their back. Their ship was currently making its slow, steady way out to sea by means of a beautiful crescent shaped bay.

Dou wiped sweet juice from his chin absently with the back of his hand and continued his conversation with Trowa, the ship's bosun. Or, more precisely, he did all of the talking and Trowa did all the listening. This arrangement didn't bother the talkative gunner in the least...and if it bothered the silent young man besides him, he wasn't saying. The tall boy across from him was dressed in a snug fitting emerald green turtleneck and dark slacks. His long dark brown bangs fell across his face, obscuring one side all together. Duo pursed his lips thoughtfully trying to gather up the threads of his story. Oh, yes! The beautiful village woman he had meet up with while on temporary leave from the ship. Duo grinned hugely at that pleasant memory.

While Duo prattled on about his on shore exploits, Trowa was doing his duty, which is keeping a lookout for trouble. Sure enough, you go looking for trouble, you find trouble... Trowa's sharp gaze locked on to a distant point just behind the curve of the bay just ahead and to the left. He stared for a few moments, his one exposed green eye going large with mounting horror.

Duo had caught the look on his companion's face and turned his head in the general direction he was looking in, all the while chatting away. "And I tell you, Trowa, this girl had the biggest pair of ...Oh, shit!" His eyes fell upon a sight that left him temporarily speechless. A rare occurrence, to be sure. Was he seeing what he really thought he was? Without tearing his gaze away from approaching disaster, Duo reached his hand back towards the bosun. "Trowa, hand me the glass, quick!"

Trowa was already way ahead of the braided boy. He had the looking glass extended and held out for Duo to grab blindly. Duo adjusted the focus a little. The vision became hellishly clear. Duo did a quick count, tallying up each main sails that dotted the horizon just beyond the island.

"Ten, oh my sweet Jesus!" he mumbled to himself, "It's the whole Spanish Armada, or at least a goodly part of it! Ten ships if there be one! And right in the lead is that accursed ship, the Black Rose!"

The gunner closed the spyglass with a loud snap and tossed it to his friend. In a flash, he was climbing over the rails to grab a large metal ring attached to a length of thick rope designed for the sole purpose of making descents from up high much speedier. "I've got to go tell the Captain! Trowa, keep an eye on things." Before the banged boy could even nod, Duo was sliding down the rope towards the deck. He usually found the trip delightful as all hell, but now his heart was hammering wildly, not with joy, but a deep anxiety. Adrenaline raced unpleasantly through his veins.

Captain Heero Yuy was engaged in a serious discussion with his second in command, Chang Wufei. Both men were seated, leaning over a detailed sea map that was spread out on the wooden table. It had been three months and still no sign of that vile marauder, Treize Khushrenada. Where in the seven seas could he be?

Both men jumped, startled from their intense concentration, as the door to the captain's chamber burst open to reveal a very distraught Duo Maxwell. Heero opened his mouth to give the American rouge the rough side of his tongue for interrupting an important meeting. Had these colonials' no manners? But something about his stance and the air of tension about the long braided man, made the captain change his mind quickly.

"Jesus, man, you nearly frightened my half to death!" snapped Heero, on his feet in an instant. He held a hand to his racing heart. He took a deep calming breath and forced himself to continue in a more reasonable tone of voice. "What is the matter, Maxwell?" (Do you really want to know?) His mind queried. No, he didn't want to know, but he had too. Tension had wrapped steel fingers about his heart, and he hadn't even heard the news yet. He would bet a month's salary that he wouldn't like what the gunner was about to say. Not one little bit.

Duo shakily released the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "It's the Spanish Armada, sir!" he blurted out, "Just off our port bow! Ten ships all told with the Black Rose in the fore, sir!"

Wufei's face darkened in a scowl and his onyx eyes narrowed in rage as he recognized the name of that hateful ship. "Treize Khushrenada!" He spat the despicable name out, the venom in his voice all but palpable. He surged to his feet, knocking over the wooden chair in his haste. "You will die, you villainous scum!" His fists clenched at his side, his knuckles white. Fine tremors of rage wracked his slender form.

Heero put a restraining hand on his second's shoulder, feeling the murderous tension within. He understood how the Chinese man felt. Treize Khushrenada, a wanted criminal, had attacked a small English colony, Wufei's home, some four months before. The small village had been completely burned to the ground. Their ship had docked for some much needed shore leave and fresh supplies a month after the incident. The few survivors left had passed on such horrible tales of rape, pillage, and destruction. One old woman had seen the wretched Spaniard carrying an unconscious Chinese woman towards his ship astride his war stallion. There could be no mistaking the identity of the unfortunate soul. Let's face it; during this day and age, there were not many Chinese inhabiting British territories outside of Hong Kong. That woman had been Wufei's bride of six months, Meilan.

Wufei had just returned home after a brief voyage when he received the shattering news. He had been trying to earn enough money for the two of them to return to their families in Mainland China. Because the attack occurred during his absence he blamed himself for her abduction. He should have been there to protect her and the citizens. However, having been out to sea when the colony was attacked, there was nothing he could have done. Even if he had known.

With an obvious effort, the Chinese man forced his mind to settle. There was the matter of the ship's immediate safety to be taken care of. His revenge would have to wait. He glanced towards his captain, and with the barest nod, indicated that he had managed to gain some semblance of control. Heero nodded once in response and removed his hand from his friend's shoulder. "Gather the men together above decks, if you would, Wufei. Our target has been sighted."

Treize Khushrenada reclined easily at the small dining table in his luxurious captain's quarters. He and the woman who sat across from him were enjoying a fine meal prepared by his own personal chef. To be more precise, he was enjoying the meal, or at least trying to. The slender Chinese woman with thick ebony hair that hung below her shoulders, sat stiff and silent, the food on her plate untouched. Her face, pale and drawn, was blank of all emotion. Her large onyx eyes were red and dull from the countless tears she had shed in the past four dreadful months since her abduction. She stared down intently at her hands, which were folded in her lap. The clean white bandages bound firmly around both wrists stood out in sharp contrast against her delicate coloring. She mentally cursed the man across from her. (Damn him all to Hell! Why couldn't he have just let me die!)

A knocking on the cabin's door drew the woman's attention back to the world around her and out of her tormented thoughts. Treize calmly dabbed at his mouth with a clean linen napkin. "You may enter." Of course, he knew who was at his door. He had been expecting him for some time now.

The tall blond man entered the spacious cabin. He bowed in reverence to his commander. "Sir, the identity of the English ship has been confirmed. It was just as you said it was, sir. An honorable ship with an honorable captain." The handsome man waited patiently for further instructions. His eyes wandered towards the silent figure sitting passively at the table. Poor girl...

He had known her husband, Chang Wufei. They had only met once, very long ago, and then only briefly. He doubted the man would remember him now...so many years had passed. Zechs believed the Chinese man to be a just and noble soul. It was so rare to find men like that nowadays. He was sure that his wife missed him dearly. He noted that her color was slowly starting to return. He recalled how he had found her just a few days ago... She had been so deathly pale, so cold... There had been so much blood...how could she risk her eternal soul at such a foolish attempt to escape this harsh world? Maybe she just didn't care anymore. Not that he could blame her. Fate had not been kind to her. But then again, Fate was anything but kind.

Treize rose and stretched his arms. He had heard many good things about this Captain Heero Yuy. A valiant man. A noble officer. A worthy adversary. He smiled brightly as he tugged at the bottom front of his uniform jacket to straiten out any possible wrinkles before they had the chance to grab hold. "Have that ship flagged, Zechs." he ordered in a casual tone. "Let's give them a chance to surrender. If they refuse, we will simply kill them all." Of course, knowing who his opponent was, he realized that the crew would rather die than surrender. The arrogance of those cursed English would simply not allow them to even consider the possibility of hauling down their colors in defeat without a great loss of blood. It had been some time since he had engaged in a worthy sea battle. It fitted his tastes and personality much better than slaughtering defenseless British colonists.

"As you command, sir. " Zechs bowed low and departed to carry out his orders. Treize watched him go. The long blond haired man with his vivid blue eyes was a fierce and dedicated warrior. The captain considered himself fortunate to have such a noble second in command. Though he had often wondered what had made this man turn his back on his country of birth? Not that it was any of his business... He sighed. Life just didn't get much better than this. He stepped over to the beautiful woman who shared his bed as well as his table, albeit against her will. His hand reached out absently to stroke the thick fall of silky hair that hung down her back in cascading waves. So beautiful... so exotic... When he was finally released from his duties at sea, he intended to take her back to Spain with him. It was high time he married and started a family. He had never longed for a woman as much as he did this one. Perhaps, he mused, someday she would even willingly come to his bed.

Meilan flinched away from his vile touch. Waves of hatred and shame washed over her, threatening to drown her in despair. Tears came unbidden to her eyes. She was barely aware they were there for she had cried so many... She had shed an ocean's worth of tears and frankly she was amazed that she still had any left. Was there no limit to the amount of suffering and humiliation she must endure? The number of bitter tears she must shed? She silently begged Death to come and save her from her misery, but Death did not answer her pleas. Since her suicide attempt a few days ago, that despicable man had her under constant supervision. No, there would be no sweet release from life for her. She must have been a terribly wicked individual in a past life to deserve such a fate.

Treize ignored her obvious revulsion and gently planted a kiss on top of her bowed head. He inhaled the fresh clean scent of her hair. He sighed and slid his arms about her narrow shoulders, until one hand rested gently against the soft swell of her breast, the other on her waist. He murmured softly, "Someday, my dear, you will grow to love me. Someday... you will accept me eagerly into your heart and arms."

(Not in this or any other lifetime, you miserable bastard!)

Reluctantly he released his hold on her and strode towards the door. He opened it and stepping out, spoke the guard he had posted just outside. Meilan heard him address the unseen soldier.

"Keep an eye on her while I am gone. And be sure to keep all sharp objects out of her reach. If anything happens to her in my absence, you will hang." The tone the captain used indicated in no uncertain terms that the last bit of information was no mere threat, but a promise.

"Y-yes, sir!"

Heero, Wufei, and Duo were stepping out of the captain's cabin when the young blond haired, blue eyed, cabin boy came rushing towards them. The lad's eyes were wide and he was slightly out of breath. He stood up straight, squared his shoulder, and saluted smartly. The slender youth was dressed casually in a pink long sleeved shirt, a dark brown vest, and long khaki slacks. The look was completed with brown shoes. Most men couldn't pull off wearing pink without looking like pansies, but the young man managed just fine. All eyes turned toward the Captain expectantly. Heero finished shrugging into his red uniform jacket. There was a quiet pause as the dark eyed captain finished fastening the last of the brass buttons.

"Yes...? How can I help you, boy?" For a moment he could not remember the name of the adolescence that stood before him. Then after a moments thought, it came to him, as it eventually always did...Winner. His name was Quatre Raberba Winner. The boy had signed up just before the start of this mission. He was a slender youth of about fifteen years. This was his first sea voyage.

"Sir, enemy ships have been confirmed off towards our port side, sir. They just cleared the island and are now blocking our route towards the open sea." The blond youth bit his lower lip nervously, and then continued with his message. "The lead ship is hailing us, sir. It is demanding our immediate surrender."

Wufei scoffed at the notion of their surrendering. "Death before dishonor!" he growled. Duo nodded in silent agreement, as did Heero. Wufei set out to gather up the men. There was much to be done to prepare for battle, and time was running out fast. Duo set off to join him.

After a short while, all hands on deck had gathered before their captain. All the men had seen the ships now resting between them and the freedom of the sea. There was much speculation as to how long they would survive against ten ships. And from the Spanish Armada, too. With such a devastatingly efficient fleet of weapons at their disposal, King George's navy had all but conquered the New World. What chance did their lone ship stand against such experienced vessels and crews?

Heero held his hand up to signify that he was ready to speak. The crew fell silent. For a moment, the only sounds to be heard were the crash of the surf and the shrieking of the gulls.

"The Black Rose has demanded our immediate surrender." he began. This was greeted by murmurs from the crowd. This bit of news had not been entirely unexpected. "We shall not surrender. For the honor of our country and for ourselves, I say that we shall not." The captain paused and his gaze swept the crowd before him. All were brave and true soldiers, ready to sacrifice their lives for the sake and protection of their country. A better crew he could not have asked for. "Yes, we are greatly outnumbered, but if we are to die this day, it will be as men and with honor! We'll show King George that the British are made of sterner stuff! We shall not simply lay down and surrender like some worthless dog with it's tail between it's legs!"

This simple statement of fact was greeted by enthusiastic cheers from all those assembled. Yes, by God, they would give those worthless Spaniards a battle to remember! The crowd was dismissed. Spirits were high, but still there was a tension in the air. No man would dare voice the small seeds of doubt that festered in their hearts. Ten heavily armed ships to their one. Would the new cannons in the holds be enough to make the difference between victory and defeat? Would they live to see another day? Or would they meet their Lord God in heaven before too long?

Thoughts and silent prayers were sent out to the families and friends waiting at home for news of their safe return. Would they ever see their loved ones again?

During the preparations for battle, Wufei's thoughts were centered on his lovely wife, Meilan. Hopefully, soon, he would hold her in his arms once more. He would make certain to never be separated from her again. His brow furrowed as doubt crept into his heart. Would she ever forgive him for not being there to protect her? (I am so sorry, my love. Please forgive your unworthy husband.) He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. Now was the time to concentrate on matters at hand. He must not allow himself to be distracted. But it was difficult. Thoughts of her - her hair, her eyes, her smile... a thousand little images kept creeping into his mind, refusing to be banished. (Please be all right) he silently begged.

Heero approached the young cabin boy, his black knee-high boots ringing mutely against the polished wooden deck. The young lad's blue eyes were impossibly wide and he seemed dazed and disoriented, not to mention more than a little worried. Everyone was busy getting ready for the up coming battle. Everyone moved with a sense of purpose. Everyone, that was, but him. The youngster seemed to be at a complete loss. Heero addressed him gently. "Why don't you climb up top to the main masts. You seem to be quite good with the flags to have deciphered their message as quickly as you did."

Quatre blushed at hearing this praise from his captain. "Y-yes, sir!" he stammered, "I often used the flags when I was young to send "secret" messages to my friends." the boy chuckled briefly at such fond memories, but the tentative smile on his face soon died. "But I never thought I would receive a message that could make my heart pound so, or make my knees feel weak like water."

Heero clapped the blond youth reassuringly on the shoulder. "It's your first sea battle, I know. It's perfectly normal to be a bit...apprehensive. Let's do our best to make sure that it won't be your last. Now, hurry, off you go." He smiled a bit as the boy scurried off to gather up the flags. The youngster moved now with his own sense of purpose. In such uncertain times, it was better to do something, anything to keep busy and to keep the fears and doubts from nibbling at your mind...

Treize stood on the deck of his ship, the spyglass to his eyes. Things were proceeding exactly as he had predicted. The message the flags were sending left no doubt as to his opponents' intentions. Zechs stood silently at his side. "Hmmm. So their refusing to surrender, are they?" The barest glimmer of a smile graced the captain's elegant features. "Oh, well. We gave them the opportunity to give up." He handed the glass over to his second in command. "Tell the men to prepare for battle. We attack at first light."

Meilan lay stiff and unmoving in the large bed, curled into a tight ball, the covers clutched to her naked chest. She could hear the deep even breathing of the man besides her. She turned over and sat upright, the cloth pooling about her small waist. She glared at the sleeping form of the man who violated her night after night. His face, illuminated by the silver glow of the moon, which danced silently in through the windows, was peaceful and yes, she had to admit that he was indeed handsome. His brown hair framed his face in ever so gentle waves. His body was sculpted to perfection with broad shoulders, a muscular chest and a narrow waist. Her eyes filled with tears and she wished desperately for a weapon, a knife...something! But, no. There was nothing. He had taken every precaution to insure both his safety and hers. How thoughtful.

(Even the moonlight has more freedom than I...)

When she was certain Treize would not awaken, the Chinese woman slipped out of bed, silent as any wraith. Her body reacted to the sudden cool of the air after the warmth of the covers. Unmindful of the goose bumps that marched their way across her skin, she made her way over to the basin of fresh water she had prepared before lights out. It had become her nightly custom. Every night she cleansed her body, scrubbing viscously until her skin was scoured pink. She rid herself of his loathsome sweat, his scent, his seed... She only wished she could cleanse the taint of shame from her soul as easily as she did her body.

Having finished, she padded over to the window, basin in hand. She tossed the water out of the small circular opening. Deciding not to return to the warmth of the bed, she donned a silk robe, which hung on a nearby peg. She tied the belt securely and headed for the door. When she tried it, she was delighted to find it unlocked. Cautiously, as to not make a single sound, she eased the sturdy wooden door open. Sitting outside the door was Zechs Merquise, his back to the door. For one moment, fearing discovery, she froze, her heart leaped into her throat. After a tense moment or two when there was no sign of any sort of response from the guard, she realized that the tall blond man must be asleep. How careless of him.

She slid the door shut and crept silently past the sleeping sentinel, totally unaware of the pair of deep blue eyes that observed her every move from beneath thick bangs. She took a deep refreshing breath of sea air. The moon above, so close she felt she could reach out and take in into her outstretched hands, seemed to mock her. (Yes, even the moon has more freedom...) She deftly made her way towards the edge of the ship.

She smiled wistfully as her mind flashed back to the night her beloved Wufei had proposed to her. The moon had been full then, as well. She had been so happy; tears of joy had slipped down her cheeks. He had been so sincere, so hopeful... and at the same time so very afraid that she would refuse. But she could refuse him nothing, nor would she ever try. His love for her was as strong as the raging sea. He had loved her deeply, with all his heart, a heart as pure as snow. She knew that he would have given her the moon had she only asked. Her smile crumbled. But now... How could he possibly love her again now that another man had defiled her?

Having reached the ship's railing, she laid her trembling hands against the cool wooden beams. A gentle breeze caressed her skin, ruffling her long hair and plucking playfully at her robe. The sea whispered seductively to her. How deep, how calm...how peaceful... She could easily see herself sinking into its silent depths, losing herself forever under its eternally moving waves. Losing all sense of fear, shame, and self-loathing. She would be at peace...more importantly she would be free. She began to pull herself up onto the railing, intent on ending her miserable existence this very night.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice came from right behind her! She whirled around and came face to face with Zechs. His long platinum blond hair fluttered about his face as the breeze gained strength for a brief moment. His dark eyes held compassion as he pleaded silently with the young woman. "You don't really want to do that, my lady." He gently took her hands, mindful of the bandages that covered her mangled wrists. He led her away from the railing and back towards the cabin door. She didn't protest. She was simply too stunned.

(So, you hadn't been asleep after all...)

At the door, he leaned down towards her, his large gentle hands resting on her shoulders. His voice was so hushed she had to lean towards him to be sure she was hearing him correctly. "I know you feel that you must end your life, but I beg of you, my lady, take heart. Your husband IS coming for you." he noted her disbelief and steered her around so that she was facing out into the bay. "He is aboard the ship that you see out there in the bay. The one that we will be attacking tomorrow morning. Try to hold on for a little while longer." Suddenly, he embraced her. She was startled, but made no effort to free herself. This man had offered her nothing but kindness. And now he was giving her a small measure of hope.

She trembled violently as sobs began to wrack her body. Zechs released her carefully and looked down at her with gentle concern. Hope and fear fought for dominance in her beautiful tear filled eyes. She crumpled to the ground, weeping her despair. She buried her face in her hands. "How can I possibly face my husband knowing that the baby I carry within my body belongs to that horrible man?" she managed between her sobs.

Zechs gasped in surprise. He really had had no idea that the woman besides him was with child. She must not be very far along in the pregnancy. "Are you sure? That it is Khushrenada's child, I mean." Without lifting her face, the young distraught woman nodded her head, crying harder.

"Does Treize know about this?" he asked, crouching down besides the weeping woman. Even as the girl shook her head in denial, Zechs knew that Treize Khushrenada had not known about the pregnancy any more than he had. How could he have possible known? Realization dawned slowly on him. "How long have you known?" he asked carefully.

Meilan looked up into the blue depths of the second in command's eyes. "I've suspected for a several weeks, but I was not positive until a few days ago." She stopped and shook her head, a sharp, angry gesture. "No...! That's not entirely true. I knew I was pregnant. I had been hoping that it was Wufei's." She smiled, but it was infinitely sad, and it did not touch her sorrowful eyes. "But it has been too long since I've been with my husband. If it were his, I would have been much farther along." Her voice cracked and she began to sob once more.

(So that is why she tried to kill herself...)

Zechs wrapped his strong arms about the weeping woman. He rubbed her back reassuringly. "If your husband really cares for you, all of this won't matter to him in the least. He will be glad to have you back in his arms. He won't blame you for what has happened. Of this, I am certain."

After a long while, the tears ceased and sobs stilled. And still he continued to hold her. Her head fell against his chest and the blond sailor realized that Meilan had fallen asleep. He smiled softly and gathered her limp form into his arms. Then he carefully returned her to his captain's bed. He made certain not to disturb either the man or the woman. He watched them for a long moment, and then he returned to his own cabin. He would need his rest if he were to be ready for the coming battle.

Wufei reclined gracefully on the wooden park bench, enjoying the cool beauty of the night. The scent of lilacs drifted on the breeze that rustled the leaves, oh so gently, the sound eerily similar to that of the surf. His eyes lit up with joy as his he caught sight of his lovely bride walking towards him, her white gown shimmering in the moonlight. Hurriedly, he rose, his hands smoothing the cloth of the tuxedo he wore. He felt out of his element. He was much more comfortable in his usual selection of clothing. But, it was the night of his wedding and he was, alas, not in China with his family, friends and familiar customs. Nevertheless, he was happy.

Demurely, Meilan strolled up to him, her veil obscuring her face from view, the long gown trailing behind, rustling softly. Apprehension stirred in his heart as he took her delicate hand in his own. In his homeland, white was the color associated with death. He was not entirely comfortable knowing that his new wife was cocooned from head to toe in such a color, the first night of their new life together. He would rather have seen her in the traditional red wedding attire of a woman of China. Gently, he lifted her veil and gazed lovingly into her beautiful eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and his heart overflowed with happiness as she slipped her arms around his shoulders.

Suddenly, loud explosions shattered the peace of the evening. Acrid smoke filled the air and obscured his vision. Wufei coughed violently as the vapor found it's way into his lungs. Just as suddenly as it appeared, the smoke cleared. To his horror, his wife was gone. Desperately, he searched for her, calling her name over and over again, but to no avail. Faintly, the Chinese youth heard Meilan crying out his name in utter despair. He whirled in the direction of her voice and was shocked to see his beloved being held, struggling with all of her might, in the arms of another man, the captain of the Black Rose, himself, Treize Khushrenada!

The brown haired captain's eyes flashed in amusement and his rich laughter filled the world.

"You are too late, young dragon, she is mine now! And she will always be mine from now until the end of time!"

Wufei dashed forward, intent on rescuing his love from the clutches of that evil fiend, but the two figures vanish in a swirl of gray smoke, leaving the ebony haired youth grasping at thin air. He crumpled to his knees as his world shattered into a thousand twinkling points of light. Tears flowing in silent rivers down his face. His nails dug red furrows into his pale face as he screamed

out his anguish...

"Meilan! Oh, dear God, no! MEILAN!"

Wufei's eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright in his narrow bed. The covers pooled in his lap. Sweat drenched his slender body and strands of silky hair clung to his brow. His breath ripped in and out of his chest in great shuddering sobs. A dream... but it had felt so real! Shakily he ran his hand through his shoulder length hair, freeing the few strands that clung to his face. His eyes darted towards the window and he realized that dawn was fast approaching.

He arose from his bed and padded silently over to the basin and pitcher he kept on a stand by his sea chest. He poured water into the basin and began to cleanse the sweat from his body. Having finished, he fastened his thick hair into its normal ponytail at the nape of his neck. Shivering in the chill air, he dressed quickly, all the while trying to prepare himself both mentally and physically for the coming battle. He banished the disturbing dream from his mind, or at least tried to. (Wait for me, Meilan. I will be with you soon...)

Treize stared in utter disbelief at the only three remaining ships that were retreating into the distant horizon, now a bloody red with the dying rays of the sun. His own ships were deserting him! The searing wind roared about him, tearing at his clothes and hair, buffeting him without mercy. It carried with it bits of hot ash and the smoldering stench of scorched wood. The sickly stench of burned flesh viciously assaulted his noseHe shook his fist at the departing vessels in helpless rage, his voice harsh and cracked. "Come back here, you cowards!" Of course, the ships had not heard him, and even if they had, it was doubtful they would have heeded his words.

(How can this be?) His mind fumed. They had outnumbered that English ship ten to one, but they had been all but defeated...!

It appeared that the British vessel had had some sort of new cannons with a far greater range than any other cannons he or his crew had ever witnessed. Before their own mighty ships had even managed to maneuver into firing range, horrendous destruction had rained down on them. The English gunner must either have had amazing aim, or the luck of the devil himself, for all cannons fired had found their marks. Treize grimaced as, in his mind's eye, he saw the appalling balls of destruction slamming into the hulls of his ships, ripping into their bodies, shredding the solid wood planking as easily as one shredded paper... The dying screams of his men echoed through the chamber's of his mind.

Unfortunately, the cannons had not been the only means of attack, nor were they the most devastating. The wily captain Yuy had used some sort of oil that, when set alight and catapulted towards the Spanish vessels, had enveloped three of his ships in waves of flames moments after they had been struck. The oil had made the fire all but impossible to smother. Water, the only means the terrified crew had had to combat the inferno, only spread the devastation further until even the very ocean had been awash in flame. Desperate for deliverance from the burning carnage, men had plunged into the depths of the sea. But the sea had offered no salvation. The terrible flames that burned easily over the surface of the water had engulfed those poor unfortunate souls. The oil tainting the water swirled in delicate patterns, a multitude of different hues, beautiful, yet lethal, like an swirling rainbow trapped in the sea's chilly embrace.

All in all, the day might still have been won save for the fact that the gunpowder for their own cannons had been mysteriously tampered with. Barrels had been broken open, powder scattered like so much useless dust. Treize suspected some sort of conspiracy, but he had not had the opportunity to get to the bottom of the mess. Someone would pay for this deceit, oh yes; there would be a reckoning.

Unable to return fire, the remaining three ships had decided it high time to beat a judicial retreat. Honestly, Treize could not really blame them. But he did all the same- he just couldn't help it. To retreat in the face of insurmountable odds struck him as being a little too cowardly. It was too much for the proud officer to bear. He would never retreat from an enemy! No! To fight to death in the name of one's king and country! There was no greater glory. No sacrifice more noble.

Never in all his life had Treize Khushrenada witnessed such a devastating attack. His mind whirled at the very thought of the unknown number of souls that had perished on this hellish day. How many sons... fathers...brothers...had been lost to the ravaging inferno? To the cold embrace of the unfeeling sea? Maybe it was better not to ask, not to know. Treize tried to block such horrific thoughts from his mind. But he could not, not really. The carnage of this day would linger in his memory always. Even if he lived to be one hundred.

Khushrenada's horrified thoughts were interrupted by a metallic thunk. He whirled in the direction of the sound, just in time to see a grappling hook sunk deep into the wooden railing. Ah, so now the final assault would begin. He turned frantically and spotted his second in command who stood a few feet down the deck from him. Treize's eyes were wild, his usually impeccably styled hair in disarray.

"Zechs! Go protect Meilan! I don't want any harm to come to her! Do you understand?" His usually calm, cultured voice had been transformed into the hoarse yell of a demented madman. Zechs hurried to the captain's quarters without a moment's delay.

The last handful of Spanish soldiers had gathered raggedly around their commander. A few were survivors from the other six vessels that had been destroyed. All were armed with either swords or daggers. A few had pistols, as well. The haggard men were grim and determined. If this was their day to die, then, by God, they were going to take as many spineless British dogs with them as they could!

Having arrived at his captain's chambers, Zechs unlocked the cabin's door and cautiously

entered, pausing for a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Faintly, he could make out a small figure sitting on the bed. With smooth efficient movements, Zechs set about lighting the kerosene lantern that rested upon the small wooden dining table. He shut and locked the door behind him and taking up the lantern, quickly strode over to the Chinese woman who watched his approach with some apprehension.

Meilan's eyes were wide with barley contained fright and uncertainty. She clutched her robe about her slender body. The sounds of battle had been bombarding her enclosed world since early morning, yet she did not know who was winning or what truly was going on outside the confines of the cabin. She had been locked in, imprisoned in the dim cabin all day without food or water. But this had not bothered her too much. No, what she feared was being trapped inside, forgotten and left alone to die if the Black Rose were to sink or be set afire like so many of the other galleons.

The wretched screams of dying men and the horribly loud roaring of the cannons had unnerved her terribly. The smoldering stench of burning wood and bodies drifted in through the open portal. From her vantage point, all she could see was the gutted remains of ships that still smoldered, spewing thick waves of noxious smoke into the air. When she had heard the door being unbolted, she had been unable to decide, for the briefest of moments, whether she should attack or hide. She had ultimately done neither.

Zechs set down the lantern and seated himself besides the frightened woman. He took her delicate hands into his large calloused ones. He spoke low and with some urgency. "My lady, the battle has finally come to us. It is time for you to gather up what possessions you have and make ready to depart this place at once. I will take you to your husband."

Meilan desperately wanted to believe the handsome man beside her, but her mind whirled madly, trying to desperately to discover whatever trap waited to ensnare her. Zechs Merquise had been nothing but kind to her, true, but why would he help her escape? Why would he go against the obvious wishes of his captain?

Her doubt must have shown in her eyes, on her face, for the tall blond man sitting besides her squeezed her hands in a reassuring manner and offered her a brilliant smile

"I am not who you, the captain, or the crew of this vessel believe me to be. My real name is Milliardo Peacecraft. I have been working undercover for many years. My confidential orders come directly from his majesty, the King of England. My mission is to destroy the Spanish Armada and thus bring the Spanish dominance of the seas to an end. I am also to bring the criminal, Commander Treize Khushrenada, captain of the infamous Black Rose, to justice for crimes committed against the British Empire." He paused for a moment and the silence between them was punctuated only by the distant clash of swords and the screams of dying men. "Many of my men were aboard the other ships. With a prearranged signal given last night, they took action and sabotaged the gunpowder stores on each vessel. Without gunpowder, the Spanish fleet was unable to bring their formidable guns to bear."

A look of pain flashed over the man's face. How many of his men were still alive? Had any of them been discovered? It was still too early to tell. He offered a brief prayer to a merciful God for their safe deliverance. Many of the men chosen for this mission had been good friends of his. He did not wish any harm to befall them. He shook his head to clear such thoughts from his mind. Now was not the time or the place to be worrying about such matters.

Milliardo Peacecraft stood and, still holding Meilan's hands in his own, pulled her gently to her feet. She seemed to be slightly dazed. "Come, my lady... your husband must eagerly be awaiting your return."

Meilan's mind was whirling. She was now free to leave this hateful ship! She would be reunited with her beloved Wufei! For the first time in months she allowed hope to fill her heart. She felt light as the air. She wanted to skip, to laugh, to dance around the room. She was going home! She nodded once, a smile playing over her lips. "I am ready to depart at once. There is nothing I wish to take away from this horrible place." She strode purposefully towards the door, her back straight, head held high. With her hand resting lightly on the brass handle, she turned and smiled brightly at her rescuer. "Well, are you coming or not?"

Milliardo grinned at the young woman and followed after her. Once he reached the door, his smile faded. He withdrew his sword from the scabbard at his waist. The smooth metal gleamed mellowly in the light of the lantern. "We must still be careful, my lady." he cautioned. "A battle still rages aboard this vessel. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to you now that you a free to return to your husband."

Wufei half crouched before the tall brown haired captain of the Black Rose. The sounds of slaughter all around him barley registered through the crimson cloak of rage that engulfed him. His whole being was focused entirely on the despicable man standing before him. Both men had their swords drawn and poised for the attack. Wufei's eyes narrowed as he declared his intentions.

"I, Chang Wufei, seek justice for the abduction of my wife, Meilan!" the youth spat. "Prepare to meet your maker, vile scum."

Treize smiled, but it was cold and deadly. "So, young dragon, you wish to steal my Meilan from me, do you? You will have to kill me first!" With that, the older man advanced with the speed of one possessed. His sword danced through the air, searching for any possible weakness or hole in the Chinese youth's defense.

Their swords meet in a vicious kiss of steel on steel. They retreated... advanced... each seeking to end the other's life. Warily, the two men circled each other for a moment, both endeavoring to decipher the other's weak points. Their blades blurred in a flurry of movement. The two rival swordsmen possessed an almost hypnotic grace. Treize swung a mighty blow at his opponent's vitals and the young Chinese man was almost sent reeling by the force of the attack as he barely brought his katana up in time to parry the assault.

Sweat from their exertion beaded down their faces, drenching their clothes. Their chests heaved for air as each fought for breath. Both aggressors were excellent swordsmen, but, much to his mounting dismay, Wufei realized that the Spaniard was by far the stronger. Still, he refused give up! He could not let his love remain in the other man's clutches. Not as long as he was alive to prevent it! This time he would protect his love from her abductor, even if it cost him his life!

Suddenly, Wufei heard the beloved voice of his wife calling his name. Almost against his will and most certainly against his better judgment, his head swiveled in the direction that sweet voice had come from. He saw Meilan running towards him, her long ebony hair streaming behind her. His beautiful angel! She was still alive! A tall handsome stranger with long platinum blond hair followed his wife closely. He wore the uniform of a Spanish navel officer. He seemed somewhat familiar, but now was not the time for a trip down memory lane...

Realizing he had allowed his attention to be diverted from the battle, Wufei hurriedly swung his body and blade back towards the older man. Too late he saw his opponent's sword's deadly thrust. His world slowed until it seemed that he had all the time in the world to defend himself, and yet, at the same instant he realized that he would never be able to bring his own weapon up in time to block. His time had run out. Burning white-hot agony ripped into the youth's side as the blade bit deeply into his tender flesh.

Treize, in a frenzy of bloodlust, thrust the blade forward, inward, with all of his strength... all his rage and frustration concentrated in that one horrendous act of destruction. A dark and sinister joy leaped into his heart. Now Meilan would be free to love him, and only him! Now she would welcome him into her heart with open arms! The last barrier to their all-consuming passion had finally been destroyed! A vicious animal-like snarl escaped his throat as he drew the blade out of his opponent's body, turning the sword as he turned his body to inflict the maximum amount of damage. Blood splattered unheeded against his wildly handsome face like Indian war paint. Maniacal laughter bubbled from his lips.

Wufei felt his blood, the hot flood of his life's vital force, spill down his side in thick rivulets. His sword fell from numbed fingers to clatter dully against the polished wood of the deck. His black eyes were wide and unbelieving. He had lost... This thought circled maddeningly through his mind as his vision clouded. Dizzy from the sudden massive blood lose, he swayed unsteadily on his feet, then staggered and fell to one knee. His breath rasped painfully through his throat. He coughed violently, bringing blood to his lips. (He must have nicked the lung...)

Treize raised the bloody sword above his head and over the kneeling figure before him. Malicious glee danced in his blue eyes, his hands clutching the hilt of the sword so savagely that his knuckles were white. He would end this worthless boy's life now. He would take his head and be rid of him forever. The sword flashed down in a vicious arc.

Suddenly, Meilan was in front of him, throwing herself full bodied into the man that was her husband. The momentum... the force of the assault sent Wufei flying backwards. He landed on his wounded side, and a scream of pure pain ripped past his lips. He writhed in helpless agony beneath the weight of his wife's tiny body. Tears streamed from his tightly clenched eyes in silent rivers of misery.

Treize barely had had time to register the movement in front of him. All he did know was that somehow his beloved had materialized before him, her life in deadly peril. There was no way he could stop the blade's swing, there was simply too much power behind it, too much raw strength driving it towards its final destination. He did, however, managed to twist his body away at the last moment. There was a solid thunk as the sword's blade embedded itself into the deck.

Meilan eased Wufei gently onto his back and pressed her hands against the terrible wound. In seconds her hands were covered in warm blood. (Oh God, help me!) She pleaded silently. She hurriedly removed the robe from about her narrow shoulders and after folding it several times, held it tightly against the deep gash. In moments the ivory garment was soaked crimson. She had not noticed when Treize retrieved his sword, but she sensed him standing over her, and she flinched as his icy voice lashed out at her.

"Get away from him, Meilan." the captain of the Black Rose ordered. She had never heard him sound so cold, so angry. He had always addressed her gently, in that smooth cultured voice of his. But now... Mutely, she shook her head emphatically, her hair brushed against her face. She would not allow that monster to harm her husband. She risked a quick glance up at the man who had abducted her, raped her, held her against her will. Rage she had expected, but not sorrow, not love. His eyes were filled with these emotions, each fighting for dominance in those beautiful azure orbs.

Treize struggled for some measure of control over his mind, his body. He was being flooded... drowned by conflicting sensations. God damn it! He loved her! He loved her like no other man could, like no other man was capable of ...even her precious husband. Couldn't she see that?

After all these months, didn't she understand the depths of his heart? He had always been gentle and loving to her. He had always been kind. His heart was being shredded to pieces as he watched the woman he loved, the _only _woman he had ever really loved, cling tightly to the wounded man at his feet. His clenched fists trembled violently at his sides. He struggled to suppress the urge to strike out at her, at the world. Tears blurred his vision.

"Meilan, please...I love you... I want you to be my wife...bare my children. Please... step away from that man. He is nothing. You belong to me." His eyes pleaded gently with her. But she was not to be persuaded.

"I belong to no one!" the woman cried in rage, "Least of all you! You claim to love me?" she scoffed in utter disbelief, her beautiful face filled with hate, loathing... her onyx eyes hard as stone. She reached across the still form of her husband, grasped the hilt of the fallen blade. Slowly, she stood, brandishing the weapon before her in a threatening manner. "You don't know the meaning of the word!" she hissed, "I would rather die right here, right now than be your wife!" The weapon was much heavier than she had expected. She knew how to fight, sort of, but she had always used a much lighter sword. She managed to slide into a defensive stance. The set of her body was grim, determined.

(She will never love you... You have lost her...no, that isn't right...You never had her to begin with...)

Uncontrollable rage consumed Treize Khushrenada. It washed over him, through him. It destroyed all reason, all thought. It consumed everything in its path, leaving behind only emptiness and despair. Life, for the handsome Spaniard, had suddenly lost all purpose, all meaning. Without Meilan by his side, life simply was not worth living. The tall man gripped his sword tightly, raising it above his head. "If I cannot have you," he rasped out through clenched teeth, "then no man shall have you!"

Terrified, Meilan held her position knowing she stood no chance against the battle-hardened veteran. She could only offer a brief prayer that her death would be quick. She held the sword out in defense, clenching her eyes closed, mentally preparing herself for the killing blow. Nothing happened. Her heart was racing in her chest. Cautiously, she opened first one eye, then the other. She gasped at the sight before her.

A sword protruded from the chest of the brunette captain. Blood gushed forth from the wound, staining the impeccably tailored jacket. Treize's eyes were wide and uncomprehending as he gazed down at his chest. "Wh- what? I- I- don't understand..."

Treize dropped his weapon, his hands fluttering towards the metal object that had mysteriously appeared in his flesh. (Now how did that get there...?) Suddenly, the blade was removed with a sickly wet sucking sound. With a grunt Treize fell to his knees. He lifted his fading gaze up towards his blond second in command who stood over him. The commander's eyes fell on the bloody sword that hung limply in the tall man's hand. He tried to speak, but his mouth worked soundlessly. He tried again and was finally able to find his voice. It sounded weak and breathy, even to his own ears. "W-why did you do it..? Zechs?" His eyes slid shut and the captain of the Black Rose fell face first to the deck as his life expired. Blood gushed from under his limp form and spread rapidly, forming an ever-widening pool.

Milliardo Peacecraft managed to keep his face blank, impassive. He averted his gaze from the dead man at his feet. "I simply couldn't allow you to cause any more harm to this young couple than you already have." he stated in a matter of fact manner. With that he walked over and knelt besides Wufei.

The naval officer quickly examined the wound. This could be bad. Very bad. He looked up towards the Chinese woman. She still held the sword in her hands. She seemed to be in some sort of shock. He called gently but urgently to her, "My Lady...! If I may have your assistance, please..."

Meilan dropped the weapon with a small cry of dismay and fell to her knees besides her husband. There was so much blood! (This is all my fault!) Her mind screamed at her, (All my fault! I distracted him during his battle! Oh, God! Please be all right, my love. Please forgive me!)

Milliardo hurriedly rose to his feet. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the thick noxious stench of burned wood, charred flesh... For a brief moment, the young gentleman felt faint, but it quickly passed. "I need to go fetch a surgeon, or your husband will die," he announced to the worried Meilan. "Please stay hear and be sure to keep steady pressure on that wound. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, he set of in search of the ship's doctor. He prayed he wasn't too late...

Meilan did as she was instructed. She gently propped Wufei's head up with the blood soaked robe. Her hand came to rest softly against his brow. She stared intently at his pale face and was hugely relieved to see those familiar almond shaped eyes flicker open. They were dark and filled with so much pain... Slowly, Wufei reached lifted his arm up, reaching towards his wife. He felt so tired, so cold...

Their hands meet gently, their fingers entwining together. Wufei could feel the steady beat of his wife's heart through her warm, smooth palm. He squeezed her hand tenderly and was relieved to feel her squeeze back. His eyes were so heavy... he struggled to keep them open. Darkness was pressing in around him from all sides. The world, all sound, everything, seemed muffled as if wrapped in thick black gauze. He was dimly aware of the sudden presence of two men at his side, heard their urgent voices, but that hardly mattered. All his thoughts, all his energy was directed towards his beloved, who was curled up besides him. He felt warm liquid touch his cheek. He raised his gaze and discovered the source.

"I'm so sorry..." his voice sounded far off and faint, as if he was separated from his body by some great distance. "I- I've...made you...cry..." Darkness engulfed him. He simply didn't have the strength to resist it anymore. He was aware of the sound of Meilan weeping, begging him to stay with her, whispering urgently to him in their native tongue. (Go...? Why would I ever leave you...? I love you...) Soon, even her voice faded away as Wufei slipped off into the dark abyss that surrounded him...

The first thing Wufei became aware of was darkness. Lots of darkness. He felt disconnected from reality. It was rather disconcerting, to be perfectly honest. He imagined himself to be simply hovering in a vast, empty space untethered from his body. And so he was, at least until he had further indication as to what was going on. Mind over matter, and all that.

(Where am I? How did I get here?) These thoughts and many more floated in the empty darkness with him. They wandered about aimlessly, often times seeming to collide into each other. No one bothered to answer these questions, but that was simply because he had not been able to pluck the words out of his mind and communicate them in a manner in which they could be understood.

He soon became aware of two other things almost simultaneously. The first was pain, a great deal of it, actually. More pain than he would have thought possible. And so pain took on great importance and became not only pain, but PAIN. It was deep and unrelenting. It would have consumed his entire world if not for the other thing. Well, actually, two things, but they were so closely integrated; they might as well have been one. Of this Wufei instinctively knew.

The first sensory input outside of the terrible agony that enveloped his mind and therefore, the world, was the far-off, distant sound of someone calling for him. The voice was soft and melodious. It was filled with love and a sense of loss. The voice was filled with sorrow, with tears. Wufei came to realize that he was the cause of that sorrow, and that very thought was unbearable. That was, in fact, unforgivable. He would have given anything to have been able to comfort that voice by saying he was all right, he was in fact, pretty okay. (As okay as he could possibly be, being trapped in limbo accompanied only by his scrambled thoughts and, of course, the ever-present agony. That never seemed to go away. It was very persistent.) But once again, he was unable to breach the gap that connected his dark floating world to that which he knew to be the real world, the world of love and life. The world where he somehow knew he belonged.

The second sensation outside of pain was something, several somethings that were cool, and moist. This puzzled him for a while. Having all the time in the world to ponder this curiosity, he found, much to his surprise, that he was unable to grasp _what _he was feeling. But the cool, moist sensation made him terrible aware of how hot and uncomfortable he was. He felt as if flames were consuming him. Rational thought, trying to reassert itself, pushed that notion from his mind. Or at least tried too. The pesky idea just kept popping back up. Finally, Wufei's own stubbornness won the day. Be gone, foolish thinking. Logic will win the day.

For some time, Wufei lingered in this bizarre state of being. The pain came and went... came and went... He noticed that it slowly began to change in terms of degrees of intensity. At times it was almost bearable, other times, it threatened to drive him insane, leaving him drenched with sweat and all but screaming in that great dark void. Gradually, however, the hurting subsided. The dark began to disperse, to be steadily replaced by a dense gray fog. Sounds became more distinct, and he could make out, not one voice, but many. How many he could not say, but they all, more or less, seemed familiar. The inferno that engulfed his very being was slowly quenched. Ah, relief!

Slowly, after what felt like an eternity, with much effort of will, Wufei was able to open his eyes. The world came into focus on it's own. Oh goody... He could barely make out a figure, wrapped in a blanket, and huddled in a nearby chair. The shape seemed to be familiar, important. It was too dark for further observation. This small effort seemed to tire Wufei terribly. His eyes fluttered closed. He slept.

When next the Chinese youth managed to open his eyes, golden rays of warmth streaming across his face greeted him. He squinted against its brilliance and tried to avert his head. This caused him to shift his position ever so slightly, which awakened a sharp protest from his wounded side. Wufei groaned softly and determined it better to remain still. At least for the time being.

Voices above him, so familiar... "Hey, I think he's awake!"

"Go fetch the captain..."

The faint sound of footsteps...of a door being opened and carefully closed.

Wufei cracked his eyes open ever so slightly. Then he opened them wide. Staring down at him was a pair of beautiful violet eyes, rimmed by thick lashes. Chestnut brown hair... A very large grin...

Wufei licked parched lips and croaked, "Maxwell... " He stopped short at the thick hoarseness of that one word. How long had he been out? Clearing his throat, the oriental youth tried again. "W-water..."

"Oh! Water! Of course! You must be pretty thirsty!" The long braided American turned to the nightstand while he babbled on. "You had us pretty worried for a while there, pal. We almost lost you..." There was the blessed sound of liquid being poured into some sort of container. Duo turned back towards his injured comrade, glass in hand. "You were running a serious temperature for a while. The doctor had us covering your whole body with wet cloths to bring down the fever...Meilan stayed by your side, day and night, and kept you covered in wet towels...I was sure you would prune..." He sat carefully on the edge of the bed. He reached his free hand behind the other man's head to lift him up enough to take a sip, but Wufei tried to shrug away and rise up to his elbows under his own power.

Duo placed a restraining hand on Wufei's chest, shaking his head. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Wufei." For once, the American's eyes were intently serious. "Just lay back and relax. You do _not _want to get that wound talking, believe me. You can't have any more pain killer for several hours."

Wufei recalled the flash of pain he had experienced earlier and decided to take the gunner's advice. He allowed Duo to lift his head just enough so he could manage a sip of water. It glided down his parched throat like silk. He heaved a blessed sigh of relief. After Wufei managed to finish the glass, Duo allowed him to settle against his pillow.

Now Wufei's voice sounded more like his own as he tried to gather his thoughts together. "Khushrenada... the Black Rose... What happened?" (Where is Meilan? What has happened to her?) He wanted to leap up and demand answers, but he could not... It was all so frustrating.

Duo started to explain the events that had so recently come to pass. The death of Treize Khushrenada at the hands of Milliardo Peacecraft, the defeat of the Spanish Armanda. He went on to how the Black Rose was towed back to Port Smith Harbor, but he was interrupted when the door to the small room was thrown open. Both men turned their heads to catch a look at the sudden intruder.

Into the room rushed the object of Wufei's intense desire. Meilan's face was pale with dark rings under her almond shaped eyes. Her long silky tresses fell about her delicate shoulders as she fell gracefully to the side of the bed. Her eyes were alive with joy as she reached out to caress the check of her beloved husband. Suddenly, a darker expression that Wufei was unable to decipher flashed across her delicate features and was replaced by... sorrow? He hand froze in mid air, as if she were afraid to touch him. He was slightly puzzled and more than a little hurt by her reaction. He took it as a sign that she blamed him for her abduction. His eyes clenched closed to still the tears that threatened to fall and his brow furrowed in pain.

(I have failed you, my love...please...forgive me...)

Meilan remained frozen in place, unable to move, her hand hovering bare inches from the pale flesh of her husband. She saw his eyes close; saw the pain in his expression. (He knows...how he must loath me...I...please...I'm so sorry!) Her own tears slid silently down her cheeks. Her heart was breaking into a thousand jagged pieces. (Please look at me!) She pleaded silently.

As if in respond to her thoughts, Wufei's onyx eyes opened, wet and glistening with unshed tears. His arm rose slowly and his fingers slid over those of his wife's, entwining with them. A smile graced his lips, tremulous, faltering. He squeezed her hand gently. With a shuddering breath, he spoke the words he had longed to utter for what seemed like an eternity... "Meilan...I love you... please forgive me... for failing you..."

Meilan threw herself at her husband, wrapping her arms about him as she had dreamed of doing for so long. She rained frantic kisses down on his upturned face until finally he managed to catch her lips with his own. His own arms slid about her, as the kiss deepened became something more. True happiness and contentment filled his soul. He vowed then and there that he would never allow them to be separated again. He would remain by her side forever...

Duo, a large grin plastered on his heart shaped face, began to back slowly out of the room. "I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do... Catch you later..." As he retreated, he bumped into Captain Heero Yuy, who had just entered the small cabin. Behind him stood the cabin boy, Quatre Winner, whose blue-green eyes were as large as saucers. The unexpected impact startled a grunt from the American rouge. He turned sheepishly to the two other men. "Let's give the two love birds some privacy, shall we...?" Heero nodded silently and taking the furiously blushing Quatre gently by the arm, led the boy from the room followed closely by the broadly grinning Duo, who shut the door firmly.

Golden sunlight was streaming through the open window. The salty tang of the ocean wafted into the room on a gentle breeze, which playfully billowed the white lace curtains. Wufei, finally up and about on his own two feet, was carefully folding some clothes when he heard a knock on his cabin door. "You may enter," he called, "the door is not locked."

Captain Heero Yuy entered holding his hat in his hands. He smiled at his former second in command. It was such a relief to see him moving about again, apparently fully recovered from his ordeal. The first few weeks after the battle had been riddled with tension. They had almost lost the young Chinese man. Heero shook his head in utter disbelief. He was still amazed that Wufei had somehow managed to survive. He had seen the damage Treize Khushrenada had inflicted upon his friend. A lesser man would have died.

Heero set his hat down on the nearby dresser. "So..." he began awkwardly, " I guess it's finally time to say good bye."

The Chinese man nodded his head silently, never raising his eyes from the task at hand. He had never been very good with words and it hurt him terribly to have to bid farewell to all of his friends aboard the ship. But it was time for him to return to his homeland with his wife, Meilan. She needed to be with her family. He sighed and carefully placed the last of the carefully folded garments into the trunk and shut the lid.

After he secured the lock, Wufei turned and faced his captain. "Yes, it is time to say good bye, but it will not be forever. You and the others are more than welcomed to visit anytime." He paused for thought. He was just so bad at these sorts of things. There was so much he wanted to say...needed to say...He wanted to tell his captain, his friend, how grateful he was to him and his crew for all they had done. He wanted to express his profound appreciation, but he did not have the words. Mere words would never be enough. So instead he smiled and simply said, "I will miss you all, sir. You have all been like a family to me."

Heero nodded his head silently. High praise indeed from the solemn youth. Neither man had been gifted with words, but that hardly mattered. Words were not needed between the two. He glanced around the small room, now bare except for the bed, the dresser, a small table and two chairs. All of Wufei and Meilan's earthly possessions were packed away into the small scattering of trunks on the floor. "Where is Meilan?" he wondered aloud. "The ship will be departing with the tide."

"She's resting in the garden," replied Wufei. His eyes filled with concern and he sat dejectedly on the stripped bed. "As you already know, this pregnancy has not been easy for her, physically or emotionally. The doctor does not believe that she will be able to carry the child to full term."

"And if she does, what will you do then?" Heero sat down besides Wufei. The mattress squeaked ever so quietly. He hated to ask such a delicate question, but he simply had too know. At least he had to ask. Whether his friend chose to reply was entirely up to him. And he would respect that decision, whichever it may be.

For a long moment, complete silence filled the small room. Wufei finally averted his gaze from his friend's questioning Prussian blue eyes. What would be done about the child? A child conceived by rape, a child of mixed blood? He had tried to wrap his mind around such difficult issues for the past several months. He was really no closer to an answer than he had been when he first learned of Meilan's pregnancy.

What would their families think? Wufei shook his head angrily. What did it matter what they thought? He loved his wife. He did not blame her for this. How could he place blame, when he still felt so responsible? If only he had been there to protect her... But that was in the past. The past could not be changed. Best to live life in the present.

Wufei had not been able to bring himself to demand Meilan to abort the child. Mainly out of concern for his wife. She had suffered so much at the hands of that despicable Treize Khushrenada and she had been weak from her attempted suicide only days before the battle. She might not have survived an abortion. And he could not have lived with himself if anything had happened to her, if anything had gone wrong. She had simply been too weak, in mind, body, and spirit. No, he could not have forced that sort of decision upon her.

The other reason the Chinese youth had not demanded an abortion was that he still believed that all life was sacred. It did not seem right to end an innocent child's life for the sins of its father. Yes, Khushrenada had sired the child, but it was still a part of Meilan. What right did he have to demand its death? No matter what he had thought or felt about her abductor, Wufei loved his wife with all of his heart and soul. If Meilan could find it in her heart to love and accept this child, then he could do no less.

Wufei glanced over towards his captain. "It is not my decision to make." He replied finally. "If Meilan is willing to keep the child, then I will raise it as my own. It is, after all, still a part of her." He stood abruptly and began to gather the luggage in his hands. "We must hurry, if we are to set sail with the tide. 'Time and Tide wait for no man.' or so the saying goes."

The young couple stood on the dock, surrounded by their friends. Their luggage was carefully stowed aboard the long boat that would take them out to their ship. The time had come to say good-bye. Heero embraced first Wufei, then Meilan. He bid them both farewell and promised to come and visit when his duties allowed. Although he had grown to care for the man and woman before him like family, he seemed a touch stiff, for he was not comfortable with public displays of affection.

Duo, on the other hand had no such reservations. He caught Wufei and his wife in an enthusiastic, but careful, bear hug, mindful of Meilan's expanding stomach. He threw his arm about Wufei's neck and delivered the king of all noogies, much to Wufei's chagrin. Meilan couldn't help but laugh at the sour expression her husband threw towards the gunner. He took her hands warmly in his own and beamed at her. "Don't forget to take good care of yourself, Meilan." Duo gave the lovely mother-to-be an almost shy peck on the cheek.

Trowa and Quatre approached together. The two had become close friends over the last few months and seemed happy and relaxed in each other's company. The bosun had even shared with the young cabin boy tales from his own childhood and Quatre in turn had taught the silent bosun how to communicate efficiently with the flags. The two were often seen sending "secret" messages to each other. What those messages said was anybody's guess...

Trowa shook hands with first the former second in command, then his wife. He smiled gently, and his one exposed eye twinkled with happiness or maybe tears... He would miss the couple greatly, especially Meilan's fine cooking... their current chef - and chef was too kind a word for the man- could easily manage to burn water. Trowa was surprised that the man had not been made to walk the plank for he cooking was almost lethal. "Good luck." he said, and those two words along with his facial expressions and body language conveyed everything he did not say.

The young cabin boy formally shook Wufei's hand and simply stated, "Best of luck to you and your wife, sir." To Meilan, whom the boy treated like one of his many sisters he had left back at home, he presented a delicately crocheted shawl. "This is for you, to help keep you warm on all those chilly sea nights." He mumbled shyly. "I made it myself..."

The youngster caught the astounded faces of his companions and blushed furiously. "What!" he began defensively, " I have twenty-nine sister! I'm sure some of that stuff was just bound to rub off..."

Meilan laughed gently and kissed the boy gently on the forehead. "Thank you, Quatre. That was very sweet of you." She held it up for a closer look. She nodded her head in approval. It was excellent workmanship. "It is truly lovely. I couldn't have done a better job."

One of the sailors at the oars cleared his throat apologetically. All eyes turned towards him. "If we are to set sail, sir, madam, then we need to get you and your stuff to the ship straight away."

Wufei nodded and, after helping his wife find her seat, settled down besides her. He took her delicate hands into his own. More goodbyes were exchanged as the long boat slipped through the water towards the galleon anchored in the bay. Wufei kissed his wife on the forehead and she leaned her head against the hollow of his shoulder, content in the fact that she would be facing the uncertain future by her love's side.

THE END

1) Haul down your colors basically is a demand for surrender.


End file.
